The Strawberry Lady
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: It's Morgan's birthday and they're having a picnic in the park. What happens when Jack meets the lady who smells like strawberries? H/P of course...comes a few days after Hotch's Dark-Eyed Obsession


THE STRAWBERRY LADY

JUNE 6 2008

(In Profiler, Profiled, Penelope's screen shows Morgan's vitals—and lists his DOB as 6-6-1973. So…I decided that they'd throw him a birthday bash and throw Rossi a welcome home party all in one! Enjoy… and yes its Hotch/Prentiss…)

Hotch had been dreaming about her for almost two weeks. Dreaming about having her under him, above him, in front of him. Just dreaming about having her.

It was slowly killing him.

Seeing her dressed in those ridiculously short shorts and that red tank top wasn't going to do much for his sanity today, either. Thank God he had a three-year old to distract him from her. Jack walked beside him, tugging impatiently on his hand. He wanted to do everything at the park. Play on the swings, fish for minnows in the little stream, just run and play like the wild child he was.

It meant everything to Hotch to see his son free to be as uncontained, as joyful, as he wanted. Unlike his own strict and sterile childhood. Had his parents ever brought him and Sean to the park? He didn't think so.

The first people Hotch had seen that he recognized were Penelope and Kevin. They were arguing slightly over the best ways to roast the 

hotdogs—grill or on sticks. Penelope and the grill were winning—which didn't surprise Hotch in the least.

He'd looked past them and nearly swallowed his tongue. Derek—the birthday boy—and the rest of the team, sans Reid, and Will were arranged in a semi-circle tossing a Frisbee casually.

He'd always loved that red tank top. And those short, short, short black shorts that showed off her long legs to perfection were the stuff fantasies were made of. Absolute perfection. She looked young, carefree, happy, and sexy as hell. And he wished for a moment that everyone in the damned park would just disappear—and leave him alone with her.

"Me pway?" Jack demanded, and Hotch looked down. The boy was staring at the Frisbee with unabashed glee. "Daddy, me pway, too?"

"Maybe in a little bit. Want to say hello first?"

"Kay." His thumb went close to his mouth and Hotch smiled, knowing the idea of meeting strange people was making him nervous. He was going through a shy stage typical of his age. Hotch wouldn't rush him.

Garcia saw Superman and little Boy Wonder when they were about six feet out. "Hey, bossman! Look at the little guy! Wow. Looks so much like you."

Jack's hair was a few shades lighter but with time, it would be as dark as his father's. And his eyes were already that deep fathomless dark brown. The smile was Hotch's, too.

"Hello, Garcia. This is Jack. He's a bit nervous today. Jack, this is Daddy's friend Penelope."

"Hello Jack-Jack, you can call me Pen." Penelope bent down and held out a hand solemnly for the little boy to shake. Jack reached up, dignified, and shook the hand—looking very much like a mini-Hotch.

The rest of the team moved in, the Frisbee battle over. Hotch made the introductions before asking, "Where's Spencer?"

"He was elected to pick up Dave from his cabin. Dave still can't drive yet." Emily answered. She was slightly sweaty, flushed, and her hair was curling wildly. It was hard for Hotch to look away. "They should be here shortly."

"Dave's brother isn't going to be able to make it?" Hotch asked, an unconscious bite in his tone at the mention of the good professor.

"No, he had a slight emergency with his twins. Had to head back to Philly." Emily answered, backing away slightly. Why did Hotch always seem to resent Steven? Steven was a nice guy, and though they'd recently decided that a relationship between them wouldn't work out in the long run—he needed a woman with a more traditional life, and she needed a man who understood the profiling life—they had vowed to remain friends. "Sent his regards to the rest of the team."

"That's right, you two had dinner again last night, right?" JJ asked, missing the way Hotch's eyes flared at her words. Everyone did—except Morgan who had a sneaking suspicion what Hotch's problem actually was.

"Umm—hmm." Emily nodded. Hotch was staring at her again, making her nervous. Always making her nervous.

"Daddy, me swing!" The little said, breaking into the conversation, and drawing his father's eyes away from the pretty lady in the red shirt. "There!"

Hotch followed the boy's finger and saw the brightly colored play equipment. "Alright, let's go!"

Hotch pushed his son for a few minutes before following him to the slides and the teeter-totters. When he returned, Reid and Rossi had arrived—the latter being comfortably arranged in the lawn chair Penelope had brought for that very purpose. His right arm was still bandaged and in a sling, and he appeared a little pale. But Hotch was never more relieved to see his friend alive and breathing. It had been too damned close.

Jack was getting fussy, hungry and over-excited. But thankfully, the _grilled _hotdogs were finished and Penelope was reigning over their disbursement. Soon Hotch had Jack a plate fixed with a hotdog and some potato chips and settled at the picnic table. The little boy had chosen the seat right next to the pretty dark haired lady. Hotch sat across from his son, where he could easily reach his plate to assist him, but still see the little boy's face. And hers. JJ and Will settled on Emily's other side and the two women laughed and talked, giggling.

Jack liked the lady's laugh. And she talked to him, not like he was a baby. And she had pretty eyes. Dark eyes like his and his Daddy's. Plus, she smelled like strawberry ice cream. Jack loved strawberry ice cream. His daddy liked strawberries, too. He ate his hotdog, and some of his chips, but he started to get sleepy. It was close to his nap time, and he just couldn't stay awake.

Emily felt the little head hit her arm softly and she looked down. Smiled softly at the little dark headed boy. "Oh! Hotch, I think it's naptime."

Her words were soft, drawing his attention from Reid's ramblings and he smiled. His son was sound asleep, leaning against Emily as if he'd known her his whole life. He stood and rounded the table, pulling the little boy into his arms. Penelope and Kevin had spread a blanket out near Dave and Hotch arranged the little boy near their feet. He'd be out for at least an hour. He smiled down at him, a soft smile that the team just wasn't used to seeing.

Emily'd known he had a son, but she'd never really given much thought to how Hotch would be with him. But seeing this tenderness really surprised her. It wasn't like the cold, severe man she'd worked with over the last year and a half. He really loved his son and she admired that.

It reiterated what they'd discussed in the hospital chapel. What did they really know about each other? Not much.

After they ate, Will and Derek began casually tossing a football back and forth—and after much convincing, Kevin joined in, while JJ, Penelope, and Emily started their own Frisbee game some great distance away. Just to give everyone enough space to play without tripping over each other.

Hotch stayed with Rossi and his son, keeping one eye on the sleeping toddler and another on his recuperating colleague. Reid sat near Rossi's feet, munching on sour cream potato chips, and watching the rest of the team's athletics. He'd been asked to join in with both groups—but he was too clumsy and didn't want to make a fool of himself.

Emily jumped, catching a toss that was a bit over her head. Her tall, trim, athletic body stretched, showing to great advantage. Her laughter rang out, floating over the distance to the three men sitting, and Hotch unconsciously smiled. He loved her laugh.

"Boys," Dave said, laughing softly, as he too watched the dark-haired woman. "We have poachers."

"What?" Reid asked around the chips in his mouth.

Dave motioned with his good hand toward a trio of men just past the three women. "Poachers."

"I don't get it. They're just tossing a football, like Morgan and the others." Reid watched the men, as they threw their ball. "Why does that make them poachers? What are they poaching?"

"Reid, you study human behavior, right?" Dave asked, as the little boy asleep near him began to stir. "Why, with all this big park would they choose to toss the ball near where our girls are playing? Poachers."

"What?"

"Watch. See the guy in the navy—the one closest to the girls?" Dave began. Hotch just watched. "His buddies will overthrow, in three, two, one…" The ball shot over the guy's head and landed not two feet from Emily. "Yep, looks like Emily's the target. And now the guys have their opening."

Hotch watched as she jerked in surprise, turning toward the trio of men. She'd obviously not even been aware they were near. The Frisbee game paused. Jack woke, wide awake and raring to go—just like Hotch always did. The boy was very much like his father.

"Target?" Reid asked, intrigued by the whole show. "Guys do that?"

"Reid, _you're_ a guy. Are you telling me you wouldn't do that?" Rossi asked. "To get a girl like that?"

"Well, no. I'd talk to her." Reid said, shrugging.

"And how's that working out for you?" Rossi asked. "Watch. He'll walk over to her. Smile. Laugh, apologize."

Sure enough the guy did exactly as Rossi predicted.

"Now what?" Reid asked, getting excited at learning about a new aspect of human behavior. "What will he do now? What is he saying?"

"Casually flirting. Checking her out—and she looks good today." Rossi said. "Asking if he can make it up to her for disturbing her game with her friends. As his friends get closer, and Penelope and JJ step over to see what is going on."

"And this stuff _works_? I don't know, I don't see Emily falling for that." Reid said skeptically. "Or Pen and JJ."

"Maybe it'll work. Probably it won't. Our girl is smarter than that." Rossi said.

"Daddy, me pway with the st'berry lady." Jack insisted, seeing the pretty lady in the red shirt with the Frisbee. _He_ was going to play with the lady, not that guy with the football! _Him_! Jack-Jack! "You pwomised!."

"Strawberry lady?" Rossi laughed, "He pegged that one correctly."

"Come on. Daddy'll take you to her." Hotch stood determinedly, holding out a hand for his little boy.

Rossi and Reid watched the two Hotchners as they moved closer to the women. Watched as Hotch called Emily's name. Told her Jack wanted to play.

Watched as Derek and the other men paused to watch what was happening. Watched as Kevin and Will moved to stand beside Hotch. Watched as the little dark-haired, dark-eyed boy left his Daddy to run to the pretty dark-haired, dark-eyed lady. Who scooped him up and put him on her hip, like she'd done it a million times before.

"I don't get it." Reid said, as the three strange men backed up swiftly. The one nearest Emily holding his hands up in a shrug, looking toward Hotch. Almost a surrender. Watched as the little boy glared at the man holding the football. "What just happened?"

"Reid—Aaron and Jack just chased the poachers away."

"I get that, but how? And why so quickly? I mean, Kevin and Will didn't say anything. And what was the deal with Hotch and Jack? Why would Hotch chase them away from Emily? How did he do it without really saying anything? I don't get it."

"Look at that kid and look at Emily—anybody looking would think they were related, right?"

"I guess. They do have similar coloring. But so does Hotch." It began to make some sense to Reid. "They think Jack is Emily's _and _Hotch's, don't they. So they know they're poaching."

"Looks like it." Rossi watched as Emily—holding the little boy—jumped to catch the Frisbee. As the three strange men moved further away—probably in search of other pretty ladies to charm. As the little boy laughed, drawing his Daddy's attention from where he'd been casually tossing a football to Morgan. Drawing his Daddy's attention to the pretty lady with a nice laugh.

Jack was having a good time—and he'd made those strangers go away. The strawberry lady was his—and his Daddy's.

And now those guys knew it.


End file.
